An Yin, as she spoke, gradually felt something was off. Her face, hidden behind the mask, turned scarlet. She bashfully lowered her head, her small mouth pouting high, presenting a charmingly coy demeanor. However, Meng Heming couldn’t see the young girl’s face; he could only gauge her emotions through her bright and beautiful eyes. Seeing her silent and with her head down, he felt as though the air around him had thinned, as if something was missing from his heart. "Why stop talking?" Meng Heming’s stern face showed a hint of indifference. Hearing the man’s words, An Yin felt a sense of blockage in her heart. Is he annoyed by her chatter? An Yin’s face looked even more displeased, and she said fiercely, "I’m finished talking." Meng Heming slowly turned his head and saw the young girl blinking her autumn-like eyes. He said in a deep voice, "It’s almost New Year’s, and you’re out playing alone?" Seeing her look of disinterest, Meng Heming tried to change the topic. "I’m out to meet a friend." An Yin, who had a forgetful nature since childhood, quickly recovered from unpleasant matters through self-digestion. As An Ying would say, her daughter was carefree since young! In An Ying’s eyes, this was both a strong point and a flaw. "Uh..." Meng Heming hesitated, then asked, "A boyfriend?" Hearing his words, An Yin was taken aback. Suddenly, Bao Shaojin’s face flashed in her mind. Quickly, she blushed and blinked twice, even stuttering slightly, "N-no, of course not." She was clearly going to see a good friend! An Yin silently added. However, seeing her stutter, Meng Heming assumed the young girl was just shy, as a knowing expression appeared on his aloof face. "You’re not even twenty yet, right? Girls your age should be careful when dating, and not be..." "I’m almost twenty-one!" An Yin angrily interrupted before he could finish. Meng Heming gave her a sidelong glance. The young girl looked delicate and gentle, truly in the prime of her youth. Hearing her words, his gaze paused. Twenty-one years old. "Are you in college?" "Third year." An Yin honestly replied, facing the man’s questions without any guard. Meng Heming also noticed the sincerity in the young girl, lacking defenses toward others. For some reason, this made even the typically unemotional him feel a bit concerned, causing a hint of worry to appear on his brow. While An Yin was chatting with the man, the woman sitting next to her suddenly exclaimed. An Yin and the man both turned to look at the woman. Realizing her voice had disturbed others, the woman awkwardly met the young girl’s gaze and whispered, "Sorry, I interrupted you." As the woman spoke, nearby girls leaned over to look at her belly. "Mom, did the baby brother kick you?" "He must have, the brother is naughty." It was then that An Yin noticed the slight curve in the woman’s belly. Perhaps due to her layers of clothing, she hadn’t noticed before. Seeing the woman staring in her direction, An Yin, flustered, said, "It’s okay." In fact, she didn’t feel interrupted and, upon learning the woman was pregnant, couldn’t help but feel curious. The woman, seeing the young girl looking at her belly, gave a comforting smile, "This is my third child, a boy." When they met earlier, An Yin found the woman timid. But now, when she mentioned the word "son," the woman’s chin lifted as if this was something she was immensely proud of. "Congratulations." An Yin hesitantly spoke. Then the woman continued, "My mother-in-law specifically asked someone to tell our fortune. They said this child would be a son." Talking about this, the smile on the woman’s face broadened, and her eyes narrowed to slits. An Yin, affected by the woman’s words, felt happy for her, though she still had some doubts. The woman said her mother-in-law had fortune-telling done, claiming she was carrying a son. This seemed unreliable to An Yin, but since the woman believed it, she didn’t want to spoil the mood and listened quietly. "Does your husband’s family favor boys over girls?" The man’s clear voice broke the silence, startling both An Yin and the woman, who took a moment to react. The woman peeked at the window-seat side, noticing the man’s noble air, clearly not an ordinary person. Thus, when exchanging seats earlier, she had bypassed him. Now, hearing his unhurried words, she felt inexplicably nervous, "Yes, my mother-in-law says daughters will marry out eventually, but sons are the ones who will be there for us in old age." Over the years, her mother-in-law had repeated this often. Initially, she dismissed it, but as time went by, she got used to it, and her thoughts began to change subtly. "Pfft..." Meng Heming let out a disdainful snort. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⚑𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖⚑𝕟𝕖𝕥 The contempt on his face was hidden by the mask, yet the woman still sensed his disapproving gaze. The typically submissive woman suddenly found her toughness, leaning forward over to An Yin to look at the man, "You disagree with what I said?" "Certainly." Meng Heming did not hide his opinions. The woman, seeing the seemingly noble man, remarked bluntly, "You must already have a son then." Upon hearing her words, a chill passed through Meng Heming’s dark eyes. The woman, taking his silence as affirmation, gave a wry smile. An Yin, sitting between them, felt incredibly uneasy listening to their conversation. The woman’s flash of sorrow tugged at An Yin’s heart. At that moment, she thought of Ms. An, who had always loved her dearly since childhood. As Ms. An’s daughter, An Yin felt incredibly fortunate. Even though she never experienced a father’s love growing up, the love from Ms. An had warmed her whole childhood. Afterward, neither of them spoke again. An Yin picked up her phone to check her messages. She saw a message from Jiang Keke. [Jiang Keke: My car is parked by the roadside. You’ll see it once you exit the station.] Reading it, An Yin immediately replied. After replying, An Yin habitually turned her head to look out the window, a habit she had when taking a ride. It was then she noticed the man beside her resting his head on the seat, eyes slightly closed, as if he were napping. His bangs fell over his eyes, and the next moment, An Yin observed his long, thick eyelashes. As the warm air from above brushed past, those lashes fluttered like little bird feathers, softly flapping. The young girl was entranced. Within Meng Heming’s peripheral vision, her delicate face was reflected. Although the young girl wore a mask, the beauty in her eyes and her lively gaze always gave him the impression of encountering an old friend. Gazing at the expressions between her brows, Meng Heming seemed to glimpse through her, letting his thoughts drift back to the past.